


All the Curves and Edges

by christinefromsherwood



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Not SPECTRE Compliant, also a sweary!Q, with a bit of action thrown in, yup there's both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: Q slipped his phone back into his inside pocket and turned on his heel.He should have fucking known. It was the same every time. Three months and done. So why the fuck had he thought what he had with James would last any longer?He might as well go home and let Catfish and Ally crawl over his suit to their heart's content. It wasn’t like he was going to need it for anything in the near future, was it.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 20
Kudos: 261
Collections: 00Q, Mi6 Cafe Prompt Fills





	All the Curves and Edges

**Author's Note:**

> written for the **MI6CafeChallenge:** _Finish This February_ , [here's the prompt post with the starter paragraph](https://mi6-cafe.tumblr.com/post/190605210090/finish-this-february-1)
> 
> I've been writing mostly Getting-Together stuff lately and I wanted to see if I could use this opening with Q and James who are already a couple, explore that dynamic and really brush up my dialogue writing skills. And this happened. :) It was a lot of fun to write.
> 
> Many thanks to **Souffle** and **Mely** for being the lovely betareaders they are and offering their thoughts and telling me what worked and they're just really awesome people, ok?

A loud burst of laughter from the center of the ballroom made Q raise his eyes from his phone. 

Yup. There he was. In his dress uniform. Blue eyes laughing. Ears flying wild. With Cmd. Bubble-Butt and Lt. Look-At-My-Biceps. Old shipmates. 

Q looked back at his phone. He’d never liked these stuffy parties. He liked his phone. And writing code. You could depend on code. Code was something you could trust. Code was reliable. Even when it didn’t behave exactly how you wanted, you only needed a bit more patience and there it was. Perfect. Reliable. Good. Q liked coding. He enjoyed writing code. Coding had always been good to him. Coding had never made him want to run away and be a hermit in Nepal far away from expenditure approval forms. Yes, this was an excellent code he was writing right now.

Oh fuck it, what was even the point of being here?! Q knew he shouldn’t have come. 

James enjoyed these kinds of things and he had seemed to be getting more and more distant in the past few weeks and Q’d just wanted… James seemed so _excited_ to go…

Q slipped his phone back into his inside pocket and turned on his heel. 

He should have fucking known. It was the same every time. Three months and done. 

So why the fuck had he thought what he had with James would last any longer?

He might as well go home and let Catfish and Ally crawl over his suit to their heart's content. It wasn’t like he was going to need it for anything in the near future, was it. 

Q swallowed against the anguished, helpless feeling in his throat and gave a tight smile to the girl in the cloakroom. 

“Sixty-five, please.” She shot him a compassionate, knowing look and padded away into the racks. 

Great. Just what he needed. With his luck, she was one of the agents that headquarters had assigned for security at the MOD gala and had recognized him.

“Here you are, sir,” she chirped and layed out... Fuck, _two_ coats! Q had forgotten they’d left them together.

“Oh… I think I’ll have to…” What he’d have to do was go back, tell James he was leaving and give him the token. Fuck, he really should have thought that through. “Miss, could you please- He’s staying on and I- I’ll be right back.” 

Just when he’d thought the evening couldn’t get worse. But he’d look like an absolute prick if he left without saying anything anyway...

Q grabbed his coat and turned around.

“Darling, there you are…” 

_Of course. Fuck._

James must have seen him leave and followed him and now he stood there, the expression on his face quickly sharpening as he noticed the coat in Q’s hands.

“You’re leaving,” James said with a frown, then immediately went on alert. “What’s happened? Something wrong at Six?” 

And wasn’t _that_ just typical. 

“Nothing’s _happened_. I’m not the bloody Quartermaster all the time!” Q replied and maybe he could have used a calmer tone, but there was something so _galling_ about James not even guessing that he might just have been upset.

James narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side. Q fucking hated it when he read him like a mark.

“But you _were_ leaving. You were just going to leave,” he repeated with something like a barb in his voice.

“I’m surprised you noticed.” 

Q could have kicked himself. He had _not_ meant to say that. Fuck. Not _now_ anyway...

“...Sorry?” 

_Well, in for a penny..._

“It just seemed like you were having so much fun with your old friends.” 

James shook his head and huffed out a laugh. Q gripped his coat tighter.

“We served together, Q. It _was_ nice to see them again.” 

Q could hear a distant voice in his head yelling that he should just stop, that he should not start this now, that this was not the way to deflect but...

“Rekindle the old flame.” 

For fuck’s sake, he just could not help himself, could he? 

“ _Old flame_? What the hell are you on about?” 

It took one look into James’s disbelieving eyes to make Q feel like a proper idiot. Then James grinned and added: “Were you... _jealous_?” with such an obvious amusement that any such feelings vanished instantly. 

Q didn’t have time for this.

“I’m glad this has been so entertaining for you,” he hissed out. 

“That’s not-” James sputtered, then changed tack: “You walked away five minutes into the conversation and you were just going to disappear without telling me?”

It had _not_ been five minutes! And besides-

“I don’t need to account for my movements like a... bloody child, and I can’t be arsed to wait around on your arm like one of your conquests, Bond. I’m going to go now.” 

He slapped the token into James’s hands and turned away to leave.

“ _Bond?_! Q-” The hurt in James’s voice was evident even with his back turned.

Shit. Q gritted his teeth and turned back around. He had not meant- This was not- 

“Look, I’m sorry. I _was_ going back to say goodnight,” he said quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “I just... don’t want to be here anymore.” 

He turned to leave again but James’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Just fucking… Stop running away from me, Q!” 

Surprised, he looked up and met James’s eyes. There was something so hurt and confused and upset there. Q bit his lip. He hadn’t _meant_ for it to go like this. 

From the corner of his eye he could see the girl in the cloakroom (junior agent, most likely) watch them avidly. 

Fuck. It was going to be all over headquarters by tomorrow. That’s why he didn’t like going to these things.

James let go of his arm awkwardly and stood back.

“Look, if you want to leave, let’s leave,” he said quietly. He must have noticed their audience as well. “Let’s go home.” 

Q nodded and wished he was anywhere else as James walked up to the desk, handed off the token and collected his coat. 

“Have a nice er- evening, sir,” the girl stammered out with a wince.

“You too, Miss Withers,” James returned in the kind of voice he reserved for the agents he helped train occasionally who were “not completely useless”. 

Q closed his eyes. Even _better_ , one of their own. 

The cab drive was, in a word, awful. 

They sat two painful feet apart and were silent. 

Q dug his fingers into the upholstery and tried to come up with something to say.

The cold April air had cleared his head a little and suddenly it seemed like he had completely overreacted when he _knew_ he hadn’t, when before he had been so sure-

James cleared his throat as though he’d wanted to say something and Q looked over at him, but then he closed his mouth and was silent again.

“...and here’s the popular _All of Me_ by John Legend. It shot up the charts last summer and is well on its way to becoming a real classic…” the cab radio announced and Q had to fight not to groan out loud and slam his head against the headrest repeatedly as the first tones sounded. 

Why the fuck-

“That’ll be £9.50,” the driver croaked, coughing drily. Q hadn’t even noticed they had stopped. 

James was reaching for his wallet and Q looked out the window. 

His place. But then again, he had heard James give the cabbie his address, Q just hadn’t thought…

James _had_ said “home” before, Q just hadn’t realised… But James probably hadn’t meant it like that. It must have been a force of habit. They did stay mostly at Q’s place but that was for convenience more often than not. The cats…

They climbed the stairs in silence, interrupted only by the soft tinkle of Q’s keys.

James was right about the gala. Though it hadn't been _five_ minutes, it also hadn’t been _that_ long. They’d all been talking and Q had-

Q gripped the keys tighter and felt their jagged edges dig into his palm. 

He’d fucking ruined this, hadn’t he. It had all been going just fine and he had to go and-

Catfish and Ally-cat had to have been waiting at the door because they let out twin heart-wrenching yowls as soon as Q’s foot hit the welcome mat. 

Q shook his head, huffed out a laugh and opened the door. He watched as James hurriedly filled the doorway and took a tentative step inside. 

The cats both tended to glue themselves to moving feet but, when those didn’t appear fast enough, they’d run off into the stairwell, refuse to budge and then complain of their abandonment with cries loud enough to wake the whole building.

“Are you hungry again? Are you, Ally?” Q closed the door to the sound of James’s deep voice as he bent down to greet Q’s cats. 

Fish whined plaintively. James scratched him under the chin with a grin when the maine coon stretched out his neck, closing his eyes blissfully. 

“Well, you’re always hungry, Fish, that’s nothing new.” 

Q simply stood there and watched James hang his coat, talk to his cats and reach for the treats above the coat rack. He looked like he belonged there, like he had done the same thing a hundred times. 

Because he had. 

This was their routine. 

Before Q went and ruined it by acting like a petty arsehole and now he had no idea how to make it better, how to explain in a way that made sense, that didn’t make him seem like a complete lunatic. He closed his fist over his keys again.

Turning around, James froze with the cat treat for Fish held aloft in one hand when he saw Q stand there like an idiot with his coat still on. 

Fuck, he was going to _leave_.

“Oh, shit, sorry, Q,” he said haltingly and reached for his coat again. The cats descended on the dropped treat like a pair of ravenous piranhas. “I’m going to go.”

Fuck!

“James, wait-” Q dug deep, straining his panicked brain, but he had _no idea_ how to continue. 

James waited.

“Do you want some dinner?” Q could have kicked himself.

James frowned in confusion. They’d gone out for dinner before heading to the gala. Q knew that. He had booked the table. But he needed time now. He needed time to figure out what he was going to say because it was Friday evening and he could see it all happening in front of him: James would leave and they wouldn’t talk over the weekend and then just nod at one another awkwardly on Monday and drift apart and he could _not_ let that happen! Not when the thing between them was so _good_ and James was-

James nodded at the exact same moment Q realised, horrified, that he had planned to go to the shops tomorrow because he’d used up the last of his frozen meat on yesterday’s lunch. He fumbled for his phone awkwardly. 

He could only hope Needo’s on the corner delivered this late.

“Thanks for waiting,” he said quietly a minute later, dropping onto the couch next to James. _Thanks for staying._ “It won’t take long, so…”

There was nothing on TV. _Of course,_ there was nothing on TV. At least nothing that he felt like watching. The laughter of the audience as they watched Michael McIntyre rummage through David Beckham’s phone rang hollow in the silence of the flat. 

And they sat so far apart. They _never_ sat like this. Backs uncomfortably straight and eyes glued to the screen, where the comedian grinned madly and jiggled the hair on the top of his head. Q should have just sat closer, there was no way to move now without it being bloody weird. 

Ally chirped lightly as she vaulted herself onto James’s lap. The metallic glint of medals on his dress uniform had proved irresistible and now she batted at them with one paw and then diligently went to work to cover his trousers with as much of her black fur as was felinely possible. 

Q would have told her off but James didn’t seem to mind as he went to bury his fingers in the fluff on the side of her head in a tried-and-true movement. 

Oh, fuck it!

“Thanks for staying,” Q blurted out. James’s head shot up. “Shit, this is stupid. I’m sorry for being an arse... I was… I don’t know...” He shrugged his shoulders. 

James turned to look at him, tilting his head.

“What happened, Q? Were you really jealous of Ayers and Mahar?”

Q shrugged again. There was a loose thread in the upholstery. It was extremely annoying.

“No! Yes… I don’t know. It’s…” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Well, you three were chatting together about the good ol’ days and I was just standing there like a… third wheel.” He laughed awkwardly. “And it’s not like I’m not used to it, but- Well, that whole thing... it’s not really my scene, is it? I’m not you.”

James stopped petting Ally and narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?” 

Q pulled at the loose thread and wished he could go back in time to the moment his brain had decided to stalk off after Lt. Ayers began recounting how the three of them went skinny dipping in Melbourne Harbour. If only he had stayed, he could have laughed politely at the end and then told _them_ the story about the microwave…

But there was nothing for it. Q went on:

“I’m… Well, compared to you, I’m a bit boring and I honestly can’t be arsed with the fancy parties and restaurants and…”

A loud bark of laughter made him stop in the middle of a sentence and regret everything all over again. He bit his lip. He knew he had acted-

“Then why did we even go to that thing?” James interrupted his train of thought and Q looked up at him incredulously.

“You _wanted_ to go!”

James shook his head and laughed again.

“I bloody well didn’t. It was _your_ idea, darling.”

“No, it wasn’t!” This was ridiculous. James pulled out his phone.

“Yesterday you texted me in the middle of the day about when we should book the table so that we wouldn’t get stuck in the rush on the way over.” He waved the screen at him. “And I felt very lucky that my uniform didn’t need dry cleaning.”

That was just- But that was- _What?_

“But you love it! You’ve always gone!” Q cried out loud enough to spook Ally off James’s lap. James shook his head again and grinned at him.

“Because Moneypenny’s always asked me to help her scare away all the sleazy politicians.”

“Oh.”

Well, that was just-

Q rested his elbows on his knees and buried his hands in his hair. 

To know this whole stupid, embarrassing thing could have been avoided... 

“I’m not normally like this, you know,” he found himself whining unconvincingly and grimaced. “It’s just… I’ve been informed that I’m not the most exciting of partners. Several times, come to think of it.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave his hair a tug. “You know, once the novelty of sex with someone new wears off and…”

“Is that what you think of me, Q?” James’s voice was quiet and upset and Q’s head shot up to reassure him. 

“No!” he yelped out, then shrugged. “But you _do_ like your fine dining and dressing up and I… don’t.” _And something has been off for the past few weeks and I thought-_

“Q, I just like the food,” James said, flinging his arms out. “And if you ever don’t want to go to- I can just take Eve. She owes me for all those terrible parties.” 

Q grinned at him sheepishly and James went on: “As to your other ideas about my desire for high-style living: Tell me, darling, how did we spend Sunday morning?”

Q snorted and then raised an eyebrow at him. “I blew you in the shower and I’m a bit offended you don’t remember.”

“Oh, I remember.” James threw him a slow, dirty smile and Q grinned back, so very, very relieved.

“I meant the rest of the morning. You worked on the programming for your boat-bot and I cleaned my gun and then did sudoku,” he paused and, when Q still blinked at him uncomprehendingly, he shrugged his shoulders. “I like how we are, Q.”

“Oh…” 

“I like testing out guns for you and running together and watching old shows,” James paused and exhaled loudly. 

“I- You’re the- Q, when you just up and left tonight…” Again he paused, swallowed. Q furrowed his brows. “I keep worrying something’s going to happen to you.”

Oh. 

Fuck. 

That… That actually made a lot of sense. 

Q couldn’t help a wince when he realised how his disappearing act in the ballroom must have seemed to James who had lost all his previous partners after… Oh fuck, had he been with Vesper for only a month? The timeline was beginning to make a lot more sense now.

“I understand.” 

Q drew his legs up onto the couch and scooched closer to get a hold of James’s hand. 

“But, James, I’m being careful,” he continued. “And I’ve had training where others… haven’t.” There was no other way to phrase it, was there… “So while it’s not impossible that something might happen, I _am_ ready. Or at least as ready as anyone can really be for such a thing.”

The bell rang. Their food had finally arrived.

It was only half an hour later as he sat in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a shock blanket and getting his grazed arm tended to that Q realised the attack couldn’t have come at a more opportune time for him to prove his point.

As usual he’d checked the camera before buzzing the courier through. He _had_ been a bit distracted and his finger _had_ hovered on the buzzer on automatic, when he noticed the black boot sticking out at the corner of the screen and the stiffness of Ajeet’s smile. 

Well, fuck...

“Come on up, Ajeet! I can’t wait to taste those bhajis!” he gushed excitedly before turning to James. “The code to the gun safe is 23-68-19. Get the cats into the bathroom, please.” 

James shot to his feet and rushed off to the bedroom. Q watched on the security feed as Ajeet stumbled inside and was immediately slammed against the wall as one… two... three men barged their way past him and up the stairs. 

Damnit, Q liked this flat. He didn’t want to have to move again. He took out his phone and shot off a quick text to alert R at Six when the door buzzer rang again.

“Mr. Brown! Mr. Brown!” Ajeet had run back to the intercom. Q was going to miss him and his Mum’s cooking. 

“I know. I know,” he tried to sound reassuring. “How many of them are there? Just the three?” 

“Just the-?! Yes, there’s three of them, Mr. Brown! They have guns!”

“Yes, I expect so,” Q hummed and let Ajeet sputter as he called to the next room: “We’ve got three coming up the stairs, James.”

“Got it! Fish is being difficult!”

“There’s treats in the third drawer!” The gunmen were on the second floor.

“...call the police or 999…” 

“Ajeet! Don’t worry. You don’t need to call anyone. I’ll take care of this and…” Fuck, they were moving fast! “Just- I’m really sorry about this. But you should go home now.” 

Q didn’t pause to see if Ajeet followed his instructions; R would take care of any emergency calls anyway. Instead, he armed the trigger plates in the floor tiles under the carpet and unlocked the door. Then he moved to the kitchen doorway and waited.

“I swear Fish was stalling on purpose,” James announced as he pressed a Glock and a Q-branch respirator into his hands. When Q turned to look, he saw that his own mask was dangling around his neck. 

“Ta. He _is_ clever and very greedy.” 

“What’s the situation?” 

Q tried to maneuver keeping hold of the gun and securing his mask as he answered:

“They should be here any second. Only handguns showed on camera.” 

James hummed and adjusted his respirator.

Heavy boots paused in front of the flat door. 

“The ETA of R’s team?” 

Q checked his phone and showed him the text. Fifteen minutes. 

It was then that the door blew off its hinges and the attackers staggered in. 

Guns ready, they crammed themselves inside the narrow hallway, took a step forward and then coughed, screamed and dropped their guns as tear gas from the hidden vents in the walls gushed into their faces. 

In the end, it had been remarkably anticlimactic, Q mused in the back of the ambulance. If it weren’t for the shot which ricocheted off the doorframe and grazed Q’s forearm when one of the attackers dropped his gun, there’d be no need for Medical to come mucking in, delaying everything. 

James had stood on the neck of one while they zip-tied the other two and that was that.

“I’m fine,” he felt the need to point out to the nurse taking his pulse. 

“Of course you are, Quartermaster,” Nurse Ramsbottom chirped in the most condescending tone, the prick. “Now, you’ve had a shock, so you just sit tight and make sure to keep warm!”

Q was just about to tell him to kindly fuck off, he had an interrogation to prepare for, but James must have sensed he was needed and interrupted him.

“I’ll keep him warm, nurse,” he drawled and manfully ignored Q’s snort as he sat down next him.

“Have they said anything?”

“Not yet.” James shook his head and then grinned. “But Moneypenny’s pretty pissed they interrupted her night out with her girlfriend. She’ll get them to talk.”

“I have to-”

“You know that’s not a good idea right now,” James interrupted. Q huffed but had to concede the point. “We’ll see what turns up in the morning.”

_In the morning._

Trying to find a place for the night was going to be a bitch at this time of night. Especially with two cats. 

“Oh bugger, Fish and Ally are still in the bathroom, aren’t they?” Q groaned. The toilet paper was going to be in shreds…

“They’ll be fine until the clean-up crew air the place out properly.” James laid a hand on his back and began to draw reassuring circles with his thumb. Q was just about to repeat emphatically that he was _fine_ when he remembered their discussion and instead snuggled in closer.

“I’m fine, James. Really.” 

James hummed but Q could feel his body stiffen and then relax imperceptibly. He pressed a kiss against his jaw, breathing in the scent of the cologne James had worn to the gala. 

Christ, that felt like _yesterday_? 

James began to stroke lazily up and down his back.

“You were brilliant,” he said after a while and Q beamed proudly. He really had been, hadn’t he. “Absolutely brilliant. Move in with me?”

_What?!_

“What?!” Q turned to stare at James with wide eyes. 

“I didn’t mean- You’ll need a place to stay for the night with the cats and after- Looking for a flat takes- I mean- I-” James Bond was blushing. It wasn’t easy to tell in the bluish light of the ambulance but the tips of his ears had a definite reddish tint to them. Q fought a mad giggle.

“But actually, yes.” James turned to look at him. “Do move in with me, Q. Please.” 

Q suddenly realised he’d pressed a hand to his mouth and was shaking his head like one of those dashboard dogs on a bumpy road. He stopped immediately but the damage was done. The muscles in James’s jaw tensed as he swallowed, nodding resignedly. 

“Well, anyway… Just until you find a new place, then.” 

Q shook off his blanket as he shot to his knees to get closer to him faster. 

“I didn’t- I wasn’t-” he babbled and grabbed for James’s hands. “I _want_ to!” he nearly shouted in his panic to reassure him. “But your flat is so awful!” 

James barked out a laugh and squeezed his fingers.

“We’ll find a new one.” 

James raised an eyebrow at (and chased off) Nurse Ramsbottom, who had noticed Q’s blanket-less state and was hurrying over, then he tugged at Q’s hands and drew him into a kiss. 

Q sank into the familiarity of it, pressing himself closer to let James tug at his lower lip just the way he liked and Q really enjoyed. Q stroked lightly behind his ears and, for his trouble, found himself squirming away from James’s fingers dancing on his ribs. 

But perhaps James was right and it wasn’t a good idea to make him walk around with a hard-on in front of all those people.

They separated with a quick peck and a grin that promised better revenge later. 

Then they leaned against one another and together turned to watch the droves of MI6 personnel hurrying back and forth amid the flashing lights, the neighbours leaning out from their windows curiously... 

James caressed the sensitive skin around the edges of Q’s bandage and said:

“See, darling, life with you could never be boring.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo? What do you think people? If you know me, you know I always appreciate comments. I am a comment connoisseur, but I'm also not picky! I'll take information about your opinions, thoughts and feelings in any form you choose to send them my way. :)
> 
> * * *
> 
> And as has now become traditional, here's a neat little list of 00Q fics that I think you might also enjoy:
> 
>   * [Serenade On Your Heartstrings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23933185) by christinefromsherwood
> _\- 00q established relationship, fluff and humour, Q forgot to kiss James in the morning and now he's been sent on a dangerous mission_ CONTAINS ART BY THE AMAZING KSANIA [(Ksan's instagram)](https://www.instagram.com/starrboned/)
>   * [Dizzyingly Digital](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554115) by Celyan, christinefromsherwood, soufflegirl91
> _\- a 5+1 00Q, getting together, post-Skyfall, Bond pretends not to understand technology_
>   * [Lost in Transportation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917353) by Celyan, christinefromsherwood, soufflegirl91
> _\- 00Q, post-SPECTRE, Christmas fic, misunderstanding, Bond comes back_
>   * [Thunder and Lightning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842511) by christinefromsherwood
> _\- 00Q, established relationship/slice of slice fluff_
>   * [The Deep Parts Pour Onward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22319449) by soufflegirl91
> _\- post-Skyfall, getting to know each other, Bond is feeling old and moons over young, capable!Q_
>   * [No Time to Dine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535209) by Celyan
> _\- Q and James's terrible first date_ 



End file.
